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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407034">cutting through the heart of me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleJuiz/pseuds/AppleJuiz'>AppleJuiz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>cutting through [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Post-Canon, Suki (Doesn’t) Die Young, Suki-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:27:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,425</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25407034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleJuiz/pseuds/AppleJuiz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Suki!” she hears from across the fight. Oh no. She’s heard Sokka shout her names a million times in a million ways, but never like this, never raw enough she can hear it scraping his throat, so panicked his voice breaks over it.</p>
<p>The calm quiet disconnect vanishes in an instant. She’s been a warrior her whole life and never even expected to make it this far. She watched girl by girl, who taught her everything about leadership and war, fall much younger than she is now, to invaders or pirates. The first time she picked up a fan she knew what it meant. A short life but a meaningful one. The day she followed Sokka’s example and left home to fight and stop a war, she thought she most likely would never make it back to her island again. </p>
<p>And then the war ended and she forgot that warriors die young. She forgot who she decided to be. She forgot she was living on stolen time. </p>
<p>#</p>
<p>Suki almost dies.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Suki &amp; The Gaang (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>cutting through [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>151</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>cutting through the heart of me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My take on the Suki dies young theory, which is to say that she doesn’t because frankly it’s out of character.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The war ends and everything changes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the moment it’s all triumph. Suki knocks the last air ship out and comes running across the top of the one she commandeered. Surprisingly Toph comes jogging to meet her, crashing into with arms around her middle. Suki doesn’t even question it, taking on her weight easily, crushing her in a hug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was amazing,” Toph says earnestly. And Suki laughs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Toph releases her and Suki moves around her to reach Sokka, dropping to her knees next to him, her knees hitting the metal hard. He’s smiling and there are tears tracking down his cheeks. She throws her arms around his neck and their balance teeters for a second before they slip and fall over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa,” he says, the air gusting out of him. She pulls back so she can look him in the eyes, exchange a look that says everything they need to. That it’s a miracle they’re here, that they genuinely thought once, twice, ten times that they would die today, but here they are, alive and together, and they won. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She presses her forehead into his, presses hard. One of his hands comes up and buries in her hair, holding her there with him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s triumph and disbelief and victory. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The war ends, and they are alive. Unbelievable statements for a new unbelievable world. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a while for Sokka’s leg to heal. Katara does her best but even with her help the bone needs to reset. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He takes to balancing on Suki when he can, just an arm on her shoulder most days, but an occasional full lean when he’s tired. It’s not a surprise when his unwavering trust in her makes her feel warm unside. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It is a surprise how much she likes being that for him, his crutch, his support. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The war is over and there’s a lot to do, different directions and places and people pulling at them. But for now they are never apart for too long. She’s his crutch and he’s her anchor, and they have the world at their feet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The first week after the war she doesn’t train at all. Where she used to do morning workouts and afternoon practices, she just sits wherever Sokka is, pressing herself to him however she can. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They talk about their childhoods, they talk about their adventures, they talk about their futures. They talk about what they’ll do now that the war is over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Deep down, they’ve always been the same. Aside from his sharp eyes and his goofy smiles and his willingness to humble himself, that’s what caught her attention. They are warriors. They were born into war and raised by it. They are prideful people from small villages protected by walls of water that they stood at to keep the war at bay, to keep the war out, to protect what they could with what they had. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then they left, venturing out to stop the war instead of hiding from it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And now the war is over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They are warriors without a war. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suki starts training again a week later, on instinct, because it feels wrong not too and because she needs something to fill the time with. Because after a week without it, her body feels tense and coiled. She has trained every day of her life that she can remember. Even when she was in a cell. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She has built her life and her body and herself around being a warrior, about fighting and protecting and defending what matters. And now she can’t sit still. Sokka comes out in the early morning to watch her and pick impatiently at his cast. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know how to not be worried,” he confesses in the dark one night when they’re sharing a bed and sharing secrets. “Like there’s a part of my brain that knows the war is over and there’s another part that keeps waiting for the next battle.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She kisses his forehead because she needs to, and says, “I know. I know, me too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She reunited with the Kyoshi Warriors and it feels like victory too. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sokka stands behind her, with his arms around her waist and chin hooked over her shoulder, the first time she puts her makeup on again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” she asks because he’s too quiet for too long. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” he says, kissing her clothed shoulder. “You look great.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When she’s with the other warriors everything feels just like it was. She can see her girls’ frazzled edges, their uncertainties, and their fear. But she's a good leader. She knows how to comfort them and how to push them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ty Lee is a challenge. A talented fighter, but a complete beginner to all the styles of the Kyoshi Warriors. She has as much to teach as she does to learn. But this at least Suki is used to, and for a moment things feel just as they should be. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then it’s a few more months after the end of the war and things are quiet at least out in the open. Zuko says there’s still a lot of tension and uncertainty behind closed doors but the war is still over and keeps being over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It starts with one girl, a fourteen year old warrior with wide eyes and a natural talent with a sword, who comes to her one day after practice and says she’s leaving, going home, going to school. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suki accepts her resignation and hugs her goodbye and tries to ignore that her very first reaction was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can do that?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then more girls start leaving. It’s staggered, but a steady trickle, a few every week. The war is over and there are possibilities around every corner for different lives, better lives. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They still have numbers and new girls interested in learning about Kyoshi and self defense. But it makes her think a lot about things she doesn’t want to. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then Sokka’s cast comes off and he starts to get back on his feet. He starts sitting in on her training sessions and it’s nice to see him in Kyoshi colors again. She does his rehab training with him in the mornings and watches him get better and better until he’s back in fighting form. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He travels with Aang and Katara still, and sometimes she joins them. It’s all peaceful missions with diplomats and leaders, talking about peace and what a post-war world should look like. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They exchange a look sometimes and she can hear echoes of his voice from that night weeks after the war, and hears her own confessions about not knowing what comes next. They were born into a world in war, and that war made them who they were, that war still pumps in their veins, pounds in their heartbeats. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The war is over. They ended the war, and they’re slowly building the world back, but it’ll still take some time to unwrite the war from within their bones.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then a few months later there’s an assasination attempt that Zuko survives just fine, but it reveals a sect of the Fire Nation Army that is disloyal to the crown. Suki assigns some of her girls to guard Zuko even as he protests that he’s absolutely fine, and the rest of them take Appa, go pick up Toph before confronting the rogue soldiers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sokka lays out a map and a game plan. The fight is long and they are continuously outnumbered. She stays back to back with Sokka the whole time. They’ve been training with each other on and off for months now and have never been more in tune. It’s the first fight he’s been in since he broke his leg and she can tell that he’s leaning his weight strangely to compensate. It’s easy enough to stay on his weaker side, to fill the places he doesn't. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The war is over, but this is a battle and it’s a battle they win. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Victory, triumph, etc. They’re too exhausted to fly right back to the palace when they’re done, so they set up camp in the woods and everything feels like it once was. When they all turn in, she lies down next to Sokka, limbs achy in the best way, brain still flooded with endorphins and adrenaline. She wants more, but the fight is over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She presses her nose to the back of his neck, wraps her arms around his waist, and tries to find enough peace with him to fall asleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Suki,” he whispers, moments later. “You still awake?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He brings his hands up to rest against hers. She laces their fingers together and rubs her fingers over a cut on his arm that’s already scabbed over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it bad that that’s the most fun I’ve had in months?” he asks. “Like am I that bad a person to like that we have people to fight again?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sighs deeply against the collar of his shirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re a bad person then I am too,” she admits. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He squeezes her hand. “You’re not a bad person.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then you aren’t either.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tugs at her hands a little, and she tightens her grip around his waist. Her knees fit right against his, his hair brushes against her forehead, and she presses a small string of kisses to his neck. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s still maybe a problem though, right?” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe,” she says. But they both know that there weren’t as many soldiers today that they thought they were going to see. The war is over, but there are still battles for them to fight. “Maybe.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She still mostly splits her time between Kyoshi Island and the Fire Nation palace. Both are nice. They aren’t gaining a lot of new girls, but the ones she has don’t seem to be leaving. It’s nice spending time with Zuko. He trusts her for advice, and there’s always someone who wants to kill him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>(“I just have one of those faces,” he says one day, and they laugh so hard she almost throws up.)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sokka still travels with Aang and Katara, but spends the rest of his time wherever she is. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He says he loves her for the first time on a beautiful starry night one visit. They’re sitting in a hidden corner of the palace roof to avoid the rest of their friends for a few minutes, exchanging increasingly heated kisses and increasingly sure fumbling. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s not sure what part of the moment feels more improbable, the amount of peace and joy she feels sitting across from a boy who loves her, or the fact that they’re in the heart of the Fire Nation, making out on the roof of the Fire Lord’s palace. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, too,” she says, reaching to cup his face in her hands and kiss him. His touch is light as he holds her wrist and the back of her shoulder. He’s warm and soft and he loves her and she loves him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Every other emotion in the world feels quiet except for how much she loves him. It’s wonderful. And it suddenly seems so clear that this is what they can become now, more than warriors, more than children who were raised and built and bathed in war. They can be two people in love, in a world that is at peace. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you,” she whispers against his lips, and kisses him again and again. “I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow,” he breathes and she pushes herself even closer to him, lets her fingers brush over the back of his head where his hair is short. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she says and presses their smiles together. And she wishes she had known this was what was waiting for her this whole time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Only there’s a reason the Avatar exists. Because peace and balance are never guaranteed, and things are always changing and shifting. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Every few months or so there’s a new enemy, some situation Aang can’t talk his way out of. And sometimes they’ll make a full reunion out of it. She and Sokka will always exchange at least one guilty look because it’s still so fun and it always feels right when they’re fighting together, the two of them and the whole group. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it’s necessary. Problems don’t go away. The war is over but there are battles to fight and win. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Time passes like that. A lot of time actually. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Enough time that she gets around to visiting the South Pole with Sokka, spends a whole season in his childhood home with his grandmother and thick parkas, huddling for warmth in his little room every night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They spend a year with Zuko in the Fire Nation, summers on Kyoshi Island, months and months traveling on Appa. A city in the Earth Kingdom, a small town in the Fire Nation, a few weeks in the North Pole that make Sokka quiet and contemplative. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But enough time passes, that he can look at the moon without pain in his eyes and she can make it through thunderstorms without flinching at each bolt of lightning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Toph hits a growth spurt, shooting up past Katara. Aang hits one a year and a half later and then they’re all looking up at him instead of down. Zuko’s hair grows out long and they all get good at braiding it despite his protests. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sokka’s shoulders fill out. She doesn’t even notice it at first because she’s there so often, mapping out his body with her eyes and her hands that she adjusts to every little change and then one day she realizes that he’s not a scrawny kid anymore. Neither is she, but it’s even harder to tell the difference when she looks in the mirror. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’re truly and properly in love. In an adult way instead of a flighty desperate teenage way they had facing down the end of the world. They share every passing thought and eat food off each other’s plates and drink out of the same cup. Toph acts disgusted and the cup thing even gets Zuko sometimes, but they don’t even care. They give shared gifts for birthdays, and plan their weeks and months together. Wherever in the world they are, they share a room and they have designated sides of the bed and she wears his shirts at night and he uses her hair ties in the morning. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s almost peaceful and almost domestic. But they still train almost every day, preparing their bodies for another fight and another fight and another after that. And every few months when something new comes up, they exchange a brief look, and gather their weapons and climb up on Appa and pretend they haven’t been waiting for exactly this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The war is over but they’re in the midst of another battle with a group of Earth Kingdom rebels with anti-Avatar sentiments seeking to kill the Earth King and/or Aang. They have a few powerful benders on their roster, including someone who can metal bend and it makes Toph livid. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They track down the group to the outskirts of Ba Sing Sae and Aang does his diplomatic peace talking thing. Suki keeps a hand on her fans and doesn’t look at Sokka because she’ll just feel guilty. She wants a fight because it’s been months and if there’s no fight it’ll feel like they’ve been training for nothing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But peace. Peace is good. So she doesn’t look at Sokka and she doesn’t grip her fans too tight and she asks the spirits to give Aang luck in talking them down, and asks them again but more like she means it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then the metal bender sends a blade flying at Aang that promptly gets frozen in the air and knocked to the ground by a water whip. So apparently the spirits can see right through her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sokka laid out the rough plan when they were flying over on Appa (while Toph made increasingly violent threats and Aang kept glancing back to beg her to, “Please say you’re kidding.”) so they fall into their positions. She’s leading the left charge with Sokka and Zuko, who wears an old clay mask and wields his swords since the Firelord technically shouldn’t be intervening in an Earth Kingdom political crisis.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’re outmatched maybe eight to one but as Sokka explained earlier, “We’re team Avatar, baby.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Toph takes the metal bender head on, clearly the most skilled fighter they have. Aang and Katara take the right side of the flank and begin dealing with the other benders. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s wonderful as always, exhilarating and thrilling and everything she’s been waiting for in a fight. The rebels are skilled enough to be a challenge but they’re facing the most skilled fighters in the entire world. Out of the corner of her eyes she keeps seeing Sokka and Zuko and it makes her think of years ago at Boiling Rock. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One of the ringleaders, a woman with a longsword and a round shield, makes a break for the forest behind her. Suki’s closest so she disarms the guy she’s currently fighting and kicks him down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got her!” she calls out to the boys as she starts running. They have their own opponents and she can tell Zuko’s getting antsy at not being able to bend. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The woman has charged up a clumping of dark grey rocks that lead up to a different part of the forest. Suki pushes herself, springing off every step until she catches up. The woman stops climbing, turns to swing at her with her sword and Suki blocks the blow easily with her fans. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not a fair fight. Suki is obviously more skilled and the other woman seems to be more of a spokesperson than a fighter. But the other woman is just reckless enough to be a little dangerous and Suki stays on her toes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She ducks under one hefty swing and then jumps just as easily to avoid the next one, adjusting her fans in her grip to swipe back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She finds out later that it had been raining in the forest for weeks and the rocks were lined up in such a way that some spots never saw the sun and never truly warmed up and dried out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suki lands on one foot easily enough but the surface of the rock is wet and she slips a few inches, wobbling for a moment as she adjusts her weight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And she turns back into her next offensive move, just as the other woman drives her sword forward, finding a crease in her armor and sending her sword through her middle. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suki gasps violently because for a second it’s pain unlike she’s ever known, like a bolt of lightning through her. The other woman yanks the weapon free and Suki feels like a piece of herself gets dragged out with it. There’s blood on the blade. Her blood. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And suddenly her whole torso is numb but it means she can move forward and use her fans, one to send the sword flying and the other to crash down on the woman’s head, knocking her out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She crumples to a heap and Suki takes a step back before her vision blurs and her knees give out on her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sways and then feels herself tip over, losing her balance and tumbling off the rocks down to the dirt below, hitting the ground so hard the air is crushed out of her lungs. Her whole body feels excruciating, the ground has never felt harder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She groans, rolling herself onto her back. When she moves to sit up, a sudden white hot pain in her abdomen has her almost passing out. She glances down and oh… oh, that’s bad. There’s a lot of blood there. She reaches down to place a hand over the wound and nearly passes out it hurts so much. Her hand comes away covered in warm thick blood. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And with a rather quiet surety she thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, I’m going to die. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Suki!” she hears from across the fight. Oh no. She’s heard Sokka shout her names a million times in a million ways, but never like this, never raw enough she can hear it scraping his throat, so panicked his voice breaks over it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The calm quiet disconnect vanishes in an instant. She’s been a warrior her whole life and never even expected to make it this far. She watched girl by girl, who taught her everything about leadership and war, fall much younger than she is now to invaders or pirates. The first time she picked up a fan she knew what it meant. A short life but a meaningful one. The day she followed Sokka’s example and left home to fight and stop a war, she thought she most likely would never make it back to her island again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then the war ended and she forgot that warriors die young. She forgot who she decided to be. She forgot she was living on stolen time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But unlike when she picked up her fans and left the island and went on a mission to take down an air fleet with just two other people, she’s not ready to die just yet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she decides. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, I’m not gonna die right now.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tries to push past the pain and get some leverage to sit up but her arms are shaking too much. Her hands feel numb and disconnected from her body. She just manages to pick her head up before Sokka is there, dropping hard to his knees next to her. His arm loops around her shoulders, easing her up and into his lap. Pain shoots through her from her gut and she yelps, tears involuntarily slipping from her eyes, tracking stickily through her makeup. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s sweaty, his body loose from the fighting, strands of his hair falling loose from his wolf tail. He’s so beautiful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So-Sokka,” she croaks, her voice giving out on her as she coughs hard. There’s a metallic taste in her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Suki,” he says, his hand brushing the tears off her cheek reflexively. “What…?” She can see the second he spots the blood on her lips, his eyes darting down to the growing blood stain at her stomach. His eyes go wide and he violently and quickly pales. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He thinks she's dying. Which no. She’s not dying. She doesn’t want to and she couldn’t, wouldn’t, won’t do that to him, won’t be another someone who dies in his arms. She knows keenly what another loss like that would do to him and she swore a long time ago that she would never hurt him, never let anything hurt him ever again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shakes her head as firmly as she can, opens her mouth to let him know that she’s not going that easily, she’s not letting him hurt like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only she feels a rush of cold through her whole body, ice in her veins, and she suddenly can’t get air in, can’t breathe. There’s this horrible wheezing whimpering sound and she realizes it’s her, it’s her trying to suck air in and getting nothing, drowning on solid ground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. She’s dying. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s dying in his arms and he’s watching her gasp for air with blood in her mouth. The panic gets her, the desperation as she can’t get air no matter how hard she tries. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No. No, no, no.” He turns back over his shoulder to the fight and shouts, “Katara!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her reedy useless breaths keep pulling nothing. Her heart pounds faster and faster like it’s racing for the finish. She reaches for his shoulder with her bloody hand, desperate to grasp onto him, to hold herself to him. She knows it’s the worst thing she can do but she can’t stop trying to find something to get a grip on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He turns back to her and she knows he can see the pleading desperate look in her eyes, the way she’s silently begging him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>save me, save me, save me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Even though it’s the worst thing to do to him, to ask of him right now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She should be offering him some brave reassuring look, letting him know silently that it’s not his fault, that everything will be alright. She can’t help it. She’s scared. She’s scared and she doesn’t want to die. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And she can’t stop the part of her that at its most terrified leans back on him, that waits for him to catch her, to save her, because that’s what they do for each other.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just hold on,” he says, ducking his head closer to hers so they’d be breathing the same air if she could breathe at all. When’s the last time she kissed him? Was it this morning, last night? “I’m right here. Please, Suki, please. Just hold on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And she tries. She tries because she doesn’t want to die and doesn’t want him to see her like this, doesn’t want him to see her die desperate and afraid. She keeps fighting for air even as her vision clouds and she stops feeling her fingers. She keeps her eyes on his, keeps her fingers as tight as she can on his shoulder, holding on. But she’s slipping. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Death always felt like such a certainty because she was a warrior and warriors go to war and then they die. She knew she’d go out in her Kyoshi colors. She imagined she’d be with her sisters, her second in command by her side maybe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She thought she’d go out in a blaze of glory, facing a formidable foe, someone stronger and more powerful than her. She’d die boldly, with a clarity of mind and her head held high, some noble injury that would be quick but not painless. And then she’d die, and be greeted on the other side by Kyoshi or the girls who had come before her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She never imagined it like this, being this scared, this desperate to cling to life, in the arms of a boy she’s loved since she was sixteen, a boy who made her feel like she was immortal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When she wakes up everything hurts. Her waist is wrapped so tightly she can’t feel most of it. She aches all over, her muscles and her limbs and her head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She blinks up at a cracked stone ceiling and heavy sunlight. There are voices, talking in hushed and heavy tones and she turns to them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, shut up,” Toph says, turning towards her eagerly. “She’s awake.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s—?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Suki!” Sokka’s hand is in hers and always has been. It squeezes tight and he’s suddenly all she can see sitting at her bedside, leaning over her. “Are you okay? How are you feeling? Does it hurt? What do you remember?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sokka,” Katara says, tugging him back. “Slow down. Give her some space.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Breathing hurts a little, but it’s such a relief to be breathing, to have air in her lungs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where—?” she croaks. She feels like she’s been eating sand for days. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Water,” Sokka says. “I’ll get you some water.” He hops to his feet and seems to realize getting water involves letting go of her hand and freezes. “Aang, get her some water.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aang is closer to the doorway and he salutes before zooming off. Katara rolls her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where—?” she tries again, coughing dryly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sokka drops back to his seat, scooting in towards her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ba Sing Sae,” Zuko answers from over Sokka’s other shoulder. “My uncle’s place.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods and all at once remembers that she was supposed to die. She turns to Sokka with wide eyes, remembering the tears on his face, the way she had grabbed at him desperately, the blood she smeared into his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks so calm now, relief and joy as he looks down at her. He brings her hand up and presses his mouth to the back of it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re okay,” he says, like he’s etching the words into her skin. “I’ve got you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods and breathes steadily. She weakly squeezes at his hand, and relaxes back into the bed, her eyelids already pulling her back down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s in and out for a little while. People come and go from the room. Sokka is always at her side, always holding her hand. He offers her water or tea and brushes her hair back from her face. Katara changes her bandages once and she catches a glimpse of the jagged angry mark on her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” she asks Sokka one day when she’s coherent enough and has been sitting up in bed for a few hours. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You passed out,” he says. “Katara healed you. She was amazing. You were still in pretty bad shape so we brought you here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Like it’s that simple. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it is. It still hurts to move and breathe and think and speak. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She wakes up once in the middle of the night with a shooting pain. It passes but she can’t look away from Sokka in the chair next to her, bathed in moonlight, head tipped back, breathing steadily. She reaches even though she aches, letting her fingers brush gently along his cheek. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you,” she breathes into the night, like she’s been waiting to say it. It’s what she thinks she would have wanted to say that at the end if she had been able to say anything at all. She likes the thought of it, of those being her last words. She likes it better than the gasping panicking whimpers she had actually been making. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But no she doesn’t like the thought of those being her last words because she doesn’t like the thought of dying. Not anytime soon. Not when she looks at Sokka and sees the boy he used to be and the man he is now and all the things he can still become. Not when she looks at him and feels so much. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She loves him. And she would like to continue to do so. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She lets her hand drift down to his shoulder, shaking him carefully. “Sokka,” she says, scooting down the bed, closer to him. “Sokka.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His nose wrinkles as he shifts around, waking up slowly. “Hmm,” he says and then snaps up to attention. “Suki? You okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods and reaches for his hand, tugging on him. “You’re gonna hurt your neck like that. Come on, sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s still sleepy and she’s still herself so she’s able to pull him towards the bed. “But Katara said—“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please.” She pouts, lacing their fingers together and blinking up at him. He swallows, and moves from the chair into the bed. She can’t sleep on her side but he can, turning into her and wrapping his other hand around hers, pressing his nose into her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, one day that’s not going to work on me anymore,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She highly doubts it. But she wants to stick around and see. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She’s on strict bed rest for two weeks, allowed to sit up but not much else. Sokka takes to carrying her around the apartment and the tea shop and eventually the few blocks around the shop, his arms under her knees and bracing her back. It’s a wonderful way to get places, being cradled against him and leaning their heads together to talk. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But she’s starting to feel a lot better and it’s been two weeks and honestly how is she supposed to get back into fighting form if every time she tries to move she just gets scooped right up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Though it’s hard enough to convince Sokka that he doesn’t need to be next to her every second of the day, so that’s what she starts with, getting Aang to take him and Katara into the city to send some letters, buy some supplies, and take the long way back. She loves him but it’s been two weeks and she needs some time to herself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A half hour in she has to go to the bathroom and there’s no one there so on instinct she swings her legs over the edge of the bed and walks over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then she’s standing in the bathroom and realizes that she’s there on her own, moving around the room on her own, feeling just fine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, Suki?” a voice comes from the main room. And she walks back over, a little slowly but mostly fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zuko stands in the doorway and looks relieved when he sees her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shrugs. “I had to go to the bathroom.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He nods and leans against the wall. “I was going to go head to the shop to get some lunch,” he explains. He takes a moment, tilting his head and thinking. “Do you want to come?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” she says without hesitation. He casually offers her an arm for support. They make small talk about the tea shop, about what’s going on in the city. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know you don’t have to stick around just because everyone else is,” she says. “I know you have an actual nation to lead.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs. “Nothing is on fire at the moment. And it’s nice to be here with everyone and spend time with Uncle.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I should almost die more often then,” she says, bumping her shoulder into Zuko’s. Only he pales instead of laughing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Or maybe don’t,” he says, with a forced levity, opening the door to the shop for her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her hand drifts down, resting lightly against the layers of bandages at her waist. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So how bad was it?” she asks because she can’t ask Sokka. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” he says. “I didn’t see much of it. Just after. There was a lot of blood. Sokka wouldn’t let go of you on the ride back. You looked very small.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She looks away, feeling her face color, feeling embarrassed for reasons she can’t fully understand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh it was bad,” Toph says from a table across the room. Zuko offers his arm again and they make their way over. “You stopped breathing for like a full minute. Sokka was freaking out. I felt the whole thing. It totally sucked.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suki sits down slowl. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” she says because she doesn’t know what else to say to that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Toph pushes a cup of tea her way while Zuko heads to the back of the shop to talk to his uncle. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah well don’t let it happen again.” She says it roughly, socking her on the arm, but Suki can see the genuine feeling on her face. She thinks about the twelve year old girl she hugged on an airship years ago. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust me, I won’t,” she says and knows that it’s not a lie. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She sips her tea and Toph talks about the rest of the battle, the stragglers of the group that they’re slowly bringing in. She makes fun of Aang’s plan to slowly convince them that he’s a cool guy. Suki just listens and laughs. Iroh comes out and brings them more tea. Zuko sets up a game of pai sho and they play a few rounds, explaining the rules and the pieces to Toph as they go. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Suki!” Sokka shouts when he and the others return, same as it’s always been, rushing to put his bags down. She decides to show off, getting out of her seat and walking over to him. He beams wrapping her up in a loose hug. She presses her smile into the side of his neck. “Wow. You’re amazing.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gross,” Toph calls and makes their next move on the board. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We actually walked all the way from the apartment,” Zuko offers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You what?” Katara asks, eyes narrowing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh,” Zuko says slowly, looking up from the table. “We, uh, walked.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You do realize she’s supposed to be on bed rest, right?” she says, crossing her arms. Aang reaches for her shoulder but she steps away and he grimaces, ducking his head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, well, she was already up because she had to go to the bathroom and so—“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So you decided that she should exert herself even more.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She seemed fine,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, great. I’m so glad she seemed fine and didn’t seem like she pulled something or reopened her stomach gaping wound.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She was—“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Toph shouts, sending the table jolting up and their game flying. “Stop talking about her like she’s not standing right here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katara seems to settle back in herself looking sheepish but defensive at the same time. Zuko just looks relieved. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Toph,” she says and offers Katara a smile. “I feel fine, seriously.” It doesn’t exactly calm her down the way Suki hoped. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I’m sorry if I got used to talking about you like you weren’t in the room when you were unconscious for the better part of a week,” she snaps and turns on her heel, marching out of the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Katara,” Aang says weakly and starts to follow her. Suki catches his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I've got it,” she says, slipping out from under Sokka’s arm and heading for the door. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katara hasn’t gone far, just leans up against the wall outside, arms crossed tight over her chest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Suki says, leaning up next to her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katara sighs. “Sorry,” she says, a little begrudgingly and Suki smiles. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I never really thanked you for saving my life,” she says. Katara hums under her breath. Suki reaches for her hand. “Thank you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There was blood in your lungs,” Katara says, staring out at the street. “I had to pull it out. I’ve never done that before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suki feels embarrassed again, and a little sick. “I didn’t know that I could do that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she says. “That must have been really hard. And I can’t imagine Sokka was much help.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Katara shakes her head. “He wasn’t. He was really scared. I was really scared.” She squeezes Suki’s hand. “We can’t lose any more family.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suki bits her lower lip and looks to whatever far off point Katara is looking at like maybe it’ll help her understand. She knows a lot about the Kyoshi kind of sisterhood, the supportive safety net of a group of girls to train with, to live with, to grow with. But she’s never had the kind of relationship Sokka and Katara have, where the exasperation comes just as quickly as the bone deep devotion. She’s never really had family before. She never had siblings, lost her parents young, joined the Kyoshi Warriors at eight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She steps closer to Katara, thinks about Sokka and the South Pole and a future she hadn’t thought of before it was almost taken away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going anywhere,” she says firmly. Katara nods and squeezes her hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another week passes and Suki gets back on her feet faster than anyone was expecting. She takes it a little slow for Katara’s sake, but she feels great. Not as good as she felt before the accident obviously but rapidly approaching it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She takes walks around town, almost always with Sokka by her side, holding her hand. The others like to tag along as well, showing off different spots from their old adventures in the city. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the end of the week Zuko finally announces he has to head back to the capital, and Suki decides to head back with him. She and Sokka had been staying in the palace before the incident and she’s looking forward to getting back to their apartment and her girls. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Toph has her school to get back to and Aang and Katara have meetings with the Earth King to discuss further actions with the rebels. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Iroh gives them plenty of tea for their respective trips and they all head off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then they’re back at their apartment and she starts leading again, avoiding most physical things. She trains in the mornings, doing simple Katara-approved exercises. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>People look at her with mild concern, but she’s fine. She’s been injured before, she’s seen girls get injured before, and they’ve bounced back just fine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was an accident and a little bit of a wake up call, to not take things for granted, to remind her how lucky she is to be here, how lucky she is to have the things she does. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone is excited but vaguely concerned at how fast she’s moving again. Zuko always seems to be guiding her to the closest chair. Sokka watches her with concerned eyes and asks every few days, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? Do you want to talk about it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” she says. “And no.” And so there’s nothing to talk about. He sticks by her side always and only offers her help when she asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The girls are also a little concerned but she keeps showing up to lead practices and they adapt. Amazingly Ty Lee is the only one who acts like nothing has happened, just asks to see the scar and makes a face at it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And for a moment she thinks that’s it then. She tells Sokka she loves him every night before she goes to bed, kissing him with a quiet, careful deliberateness, a reminder that this is a privilege. But she feels fine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So when she picks up her fans again for some morning training, it’s all that more shocking when she starts to slip up. Her forms are off, her grip is off, her stance is off. She feels like a child, moving sloppily and weakly and slowly. It doesn’t even hurt. At least not more than she can handle. She’s just stiff and sore and slow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She feels frustration and rage boil up in her for a second. It’s such an unfathomable betrayal. Her body has always been her most powerful weapon. She had nothing at Boiling Rock but her body and it was always enough. Feeling comfortable in her skin, moving with calculated precision, being able to control her physical form, that’s what makes her the fighter she is. If she can’t…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She takes a deep breath and reminds herself that everything takes practice. It’s been around a month since she’s been training with her fans. She’ll just have to retrain her body to do what she wants it to do. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She delegates responsibilities to the other girls and starts throwing herself into her own training full time. Sokka sits with her from dusk till dawn, watching, sometimes joining, shooting her concerned looks but saying nothing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A week passes and she sweats every day out in the sun, running through the same basic three moves making no progress, taking a lot of deep breathes, biting down on a lot of screams. She keeps moving through the motions, picturing in her head what her form should look like, what she could have done in her sleep a month and a half ago. But she just can’t do it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tries a move again and actually trips, feeling a jolt of pain in her stomach when she hits the ground, gasping softly and placing a hand over the thin bandages that still rest there. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Suki!” Sokka calls, jogging over. “Are you okay?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” she says with a sigh. She lets Sokka help her back up and uses her sleeve to mop at the sweat on her brow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe… you should take a break,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I took a break like five minutes ago,” she says, reaching up to fix her hair. “I’m okay really. I just moved wrong.” Again. Cuz she’s been moving wrong for the past week. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he says, stepping towards her and taking her hand. “Maybe we should take a break.” His voice is heavy, stressing words with weight that makes her worries. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A break from what?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“From this,” he says. “From here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We just got back,” she says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah but…” He swallows, picking his words carefully. “It might be nice. To take a vacation, somewhere warm, just the two of us.” He drifts towards her, his hand easily finding the dip of her waist, bringing their bodies close, their faces closer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles and pats his chest. “That sounds nice, but if I slow down now, it’ll take even longer for me to get back in shape.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe… that’s not a bad thing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>She narrows her eyes. “What are you talking about?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe you could take your time. The Kyoshi Warriors are doing perfectly fine guarding this place. Things are calm—“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Things are always calm before they aren’t,” she says, rolling her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, true, but… we’re not at war anymore and there are people who can.. handle it if things aren’t calm.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She steps back quickly. “Sokka,” she says firmly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not necessarily our responsibility,” he adds quickly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And what? Defeating the firelord somehow was?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not like that anymore. And I’m only saying that maybe we should take some time off, think about things. Let other people handle it if something comes up,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shakes her head. “No,” she says. “I’m fine, okay? I just need to keep practicing and I’ll get better.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not saying you won’t,” he says. “I know you will, but Suki, you almost died.” It’s the first time he’s said it out loud and it’s horrible the way he says it, shaky and gutted and hushed saying it too loud might make the world come crashing down around them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was an accident,” she says, throwing her hands up. “I am at the top of my game. She wasn’t a bender, she wasn’t a better fighter than me, I could take her. I just slipped a little. It could have happened to anyone. It could have happened to you, it doesn’t mean—“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” he says, softly. She takes a hiccuping breath and realizes she’s crying. “I know. I know.” She feels shaky on her feet but he’s there to catch her, to pull her close against his body, to let her bury her face in his shoulder and sob. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was an accident,” she says through shaky breaths. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” he says again, kissing the top of her head. “I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone. It could happen again, next time. To her, to him, to anyone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She almost died. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She cries into his shoulder, all her frustration and anger and fear. And he takes it all on, holds her through it, whispers softly to her and runs his hand along her back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe we should take a break,” she says through sniffles when it’s over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just for a little while,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That night over dinner, they plan out their vacation. Zuko offers them the beach house on Ember Island. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice!” Sokka says, holding up his hand for a high five. Zuko rolls his eyes but meets him across the table. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He drops his hand to hers after. “Take all the time you need,” he says, a little too earnestly. She nods and gives him the reassuring smile she’s getting used to. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That night back in their room, she pushes Sokka onto their bed and kisses him like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do. She runs her hands over every miraculous inch of him, thanks the spirits again and again that he is here and he is hers. His hands rest on her back loosely, keeping her steady. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re my person,” he breathes into the space between their lips. “You know that right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the best thing anyone has ever said to her. She rests her hand on his chest, right over his heart. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I used to think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you,” she says. “But that’s too vague I guess. I want to spend the next hundred years with you. At the very least.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs breathlessly and she feels his chest move with it. “I’ll have to make it a good hundred years then. Keep you coming back for more.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh I know you will,” she says and leans down to kiss him again and again and again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The beach house is a little dusty and very empty. They spend most of the first day cleaning it up. It’s not the first time they’ve been back. There have been a few times over various summers, but always as a group. They’ve never been alone here together. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And actually the more Suki thinks about it the more she realizes they may have never actually been this alone ever, in a large house, on a large estate, no one for miles. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sokka must realizes it at the same time apparently because they exchange a look, him dusting the counters of the kitchen, her sweeping the floor. And then suddenly they’re making out against the couch and she’s laughing into his mouth and it’s like nothing has ever hurt them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They pick his old room from back in the day because it has the bigger window. She’s been cleared to sleep on her side so she does, and Sokka sleeps behind her, his arm around her waist, his hand resting loosely over her scar, fingers brushing absently at the fabric there. He kisses sleepily at her neck and she twists her feet around his. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Everything feels sleepy and hazy and wonderful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you remember,” she whispers, laughing breathlessly. “Melon Lord?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sokka laughs in wheezes against her back, and she joins him, letting the sleep delirium drag her under. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They fall asleep slowly, and she hopes that means they’ll stay asleep for once. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She wakes up early the next morning, because she’s used to waking up at dawn to train. She’d usually wake Sokka up too so he’d actually start the day at a reasonable hour, but it’s their vacation and she can still move slowly and quietly enough to sneak out of bed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She heads down to the beach to sit in the cold sand and watch the sunrise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The war is over. It has been over for years. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tries to pull her knees up to her chest but it makes her stomach hurt. She sighs and flops back into the sand instead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sky brightens above her and the water starts to come lapping at her toes. It’s peaceful and warm and quiet. She breathes in time with the waves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hears Sokka’s careful footsteps shift the sand. He sits down carefully next to her, legs folded underneath him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You kinda scared me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He draws a series of swirling shapes in the sand. “Nah, that’s more of a me problem.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She turns so she can rest her head against his thigh. He brings his clean hand over to run through her hair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The sunrise was nice,” she says and sighs heavily. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” she says, closing her eyes and turning her face into his warm skin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there anything I can do?” he asks, and she knows he means</span>
  <em>
    <span>, I will literally do anything for you. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What happens if I can’t fight anymore?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Too vague,” he says, fingers tapping along her shoulder gently. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, what happens to us?” she says to start. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would anything happen to us?” he asks fiercely. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tries to think of a way to explain the ways they fit, the way being warriors is written into their cores, how they can find themselves in each other deep down. It wouldn’t make any sense. “I don’t want to be someone you have to worry about,” she says instead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I worry about everyone all the time already so that’s not a problem.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You fell in love with me because I was good at fighting,” she continues. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I fell in love with you over several months for many different reasons.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A prominent reason being that I was very good at fighting and could kick your ass.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, yes. But you are also very good at being adorable, and telling weird jokes and somehow getting Zuko to laugh at them even though he has the worst sense of humor. And you put up with me and make me be smart and teach me how to be a better person. You are kind and compassionate and a good leader and a bad singer and a worse dancer which doesn’t even make sense because you’re more acrobatic than anyone I know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop,” she says, patting at his knee. “Okay, I get it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he says. “So much.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too,” she says. “But that’s how you feel about me. What about me? What happens to me if I stop fighting?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a Kyoshi Warrior,” she says. “I have been my whole life. I’ve been fighting since I was eight years old.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re afraid that you can’t stop,” he finishes. The words are familiar like he’s thought them too. She knows he has because they are the same. “That you don’t know who you’d be if you stop.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods. “Something like that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you want to keep doing what we’re doing, you can,” he says. “We can stay here a week and go back and you can keep practicing until you’re better. And you will get better, back to where you were and beyond it. I know you will.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to die,” she says. “I don’t want you to die. Not now. Not after the war, in some random fight because of some accident. Not before we… not before we get to actually live.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His body shifts as he nods. “I know,” he says. “Me too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So what do we do, idea guy?” she asks, looking up at him. She tries not to think about how they’re laying down just like that day in the forest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “I just know I don’t want to do any of it without you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sit out on the beach for most of the day, a little quiet but warming up as the day does. They go in the water whenever they get too hot, splash around, dive under and over waves and then sprawl out on the sand again to dry out again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She throws a shirt on every time they get out, hers or his whichever she can grab, just anything to cover up her stomach. The scar is still an angry looking thing, not as bad as it was back in Ba Sing Sae, but still raised and dark red. She knows Sokka doesn’t care, from the way he presses his lips to the line whenever he can or watches her with wide eyes and swallows when she strips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But seeing it makes her think about things she doesn’t want to think about while they’re laying out in the sun. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They leave the beach at sunset and head to town for dinner. They wander around the island afterwards, holding hands, and then go back to the house to sleep and do the same thing the next day and the next. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It is nice and relaxing and the world doesn’t burn down. She’s only going a little crazy, but whenever she feels like she’s about to explode, Sokka’s there, wrapping his arms around her and continuing their conversation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” he says out on the beach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Winters here, summers in the South Pole, in between at Kyoshi Island.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Doing what, though?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh right,” he says and sighs. “Back to the drawing board.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We could open a restaurant,” he offers one night over dinner. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know how to cook,” she reminds him. He folds their fingers together. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm,” he says. “What’s a market skill comparable to taking down an air fleet?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She laughs and leans over to take a bite off his plate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mechanic? Engineer?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’d have to go back to school,” she says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Gross.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sokka has nightmares. He goes very still and then he wakes up fast, breathing hard, tears in his eyes, her name a broken gasp on his lips. She’s a light sleeper, always wakes up when he does. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Right here,” she says, rubbing at her eyes with one hand, reaching for him with the other. She pulls him in, his face into her neck, planting her hands on his shaking back. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nights like these the moonlight feels harsh, almost violent. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He catches his breath and holds onto her like she might just slip away if he doesn’t. She kisses his temple, the shell of his ear, the corner of his jaw. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The worst part is this isn’t new. He used to have nightmares during the war. Everyone did. For a while after, too. But they were far and few between until the incident. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was an accident,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she wants to scream at the sky. She slipped, just a little, just for a second. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She strokes her hand along his back, again and again until his breathing evens out and he falls asleep in her arms again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So what, the next time something happens we just sit at home?” she asks, hating that her voice is as sharp as it is. They’re out on the beach again, tired and bored and lost and filling the time by raising their voices. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But maybe,” he says. “Maybe we try it. Once.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’d really be okay with that, leaving some fight to your sister, our friends and not helping?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, there we go then,” she says, rubbing a hand through her hair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was an accident,” he says, burying his face in his hands. “It could happen again. It could happen to anyone.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So it’s better if we’re out there together, having each other’s backs.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what we were doing when you…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I separated from the group,” she says. “We won’t do that again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You were a few yards away.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So what do we do then?” she asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” He throws himself back into the sand, hands in the air. “I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looks deflated, defeated. Worst of all he looks young. She drops to the sand next to him and wraps her arms around his waist. They stay there until the stars come out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What if we’ll never do anything as important as ending the war?” she asks one night in bed, whispering like she doesn’t want him to hear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I sure hope so,” he says. She laughs because yeah, that was a ridiculous question. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My whole life, our whole lives, we made ourselves into people to fight in the war,” she says. He strokes his thumb over the back of her hand. “And now what? We recreate ourselves.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think so,” he says. “We have the time. Or well, I want us to have the time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” he says, one day on the beach, three weeks since they showed up on the island. They’ve gotten better at relaxing, just enjoying their time and being together. They watch the sunset and he’s fidgeting in place, his hands fiddling in his lap. “I think I figured it out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles and leans her head against his shoulder. “Knew you would,” she says. “What’s the plan?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We go back,” he says. “You keep training and getting better. We bring more backup on Team Avatar missions, maybe try a little harder to work out nonviolent solutions with Aang. And we talk about maybe retiring in another five years.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Retiring?” she echoes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he says. “That’s what it is, right? That’s the problem. Cuz we’re going to either retire, stop fighting, get boring normal jobs, or we’re gonna die in battle, whichever comes first so we should decide which one we want.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a little dark,” she says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This whole thing has been pretty dark,” he shoots back, eyebrow raised. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fair enough.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Accidents happen,” he says. “All the time. To everyone.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods. “So we try to be safe,” she says, already seeing where he’s going with this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We work on reinventing ourselves,” he says. “Figure out who we want to be next, and when we do, we retire.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And the others?” she asks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think they’ll understand,” he says. “But Aang’s the avatar, Zuko’s the Fire Lord, Toph is the greatest earth bender in the world. And my sister’s my sister. I don’t think much is going to stop them. And we can always help if they really need us. Whenever we decide to retire.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She smiles and digs her toes in the sand. “Good plan. I like it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And one more thing,” he says. His chest rises and falls with a deep breath. He reaches into his pocket and hands her a necklace, blue fabric and a carved wooden medallion. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her heart pounds hard against the inside of her chest. “Sokka.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you,” he says. She runs her fingers over the carving. It’s sloppy but she knows Sokka well enough to know it’s an attempt at a fan. And oh, she’s crying. “I don’t know what’s coming next. I don’t know if this plan is going to work, but I know I want to be with you for the rest of whatever time we have.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sokka,” she says, turning towards him, grabbing his hand. “Don’t do this if you’re just scared, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes his head. “I’ve had it for a while,” he admits. “I was just waiting for the right moment and then you… but that’s it, right? No more waiting for the right moment. No more waiting. We live our lives.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods and exhales shakily, wiping at her cheeks. She pushes the necklace back into his hands. “Put it on me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t even asked yet,” he protests. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you need to?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “I love you too. Let’s get married.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s hard to kiss with how wide they’re both smiling, but she can’t not. She turns around, fits herself into the space between his legs, and he slips the necklace around her neck. She runs her fingers over it again and again, leaning back against Sokka’s chest. He wraps his arms around her loosely, hands resting over the place where her scar is.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sunset is slow and beautiful.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hooks his chin over her shoulder, and they both know the moon is going to rise soon. But the sand is soft and the waves are quiet and constant. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s calm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We should go on vacation more often,” she says. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know how I’m gonna top this one.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tilts her head back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I think you’ll figure it out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for reading! As always let me know what you think, and if you want to see more. This is where I see the series ending but feel free to send me more prompts.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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